Wingless Guardians
by CrimsonAccent
Summary: Harry muses about Hermione and Ron, his first day of summer back with the Dursleys. Set bewteen SS and CoS, done for the Six Billion Secrets challenge.


This was done for the Six Billion Secrets challenge and my prompt was: _You are my best friend. I haven't known you for even a year, yet I trust you more than friends I've had for years. I can tell you anything, you don't judge me. You're one of the best friends I've ever had, never leave me. Thank you so much, I wanted to remind you that I love you._ I think I might have strayed a bit from the concept, but the sentiment was there, I think.

Wingless Guardians

Sitting in the cupboard, Harry was usually miserable or at least feeling not-happy (because even when he was not-hungry, not-tired, not-hurting, there was still something missing), but today was _different_.

Of course, _every_ day was _different_. If a day was the same, what was the point of calling it another day? To repeat the same thing over and over again seemed pointless. Harry knew about repetition. It was both a comfort and a torture. If he knew what was to come he could prepare himself for it, though knowing what to expect could be extremely boring and tedious, even dreadful. Having all day to think of the yelling, disdain, and pain that awaited him was the farthest thing from Harry's definition of fun.

But, as he'd felt in his bones, deep where his magic was, today _wasn't the same_. In fact, the whole year had been different.

Teachers that wanted him to do his best (even helped him!), three full not-having-to-be-hungry meals every day, finding out the truth about his parents- an explanation for all the strange happenings in his life; all that had been nice, but that hadn't been the best part.

_Friends_. He would trade his magic and all of his newly learned spells, in a heartbeat as long as his newly formed (_fake!_ a nasty voice whispered, but he refused to listen to it, another first for him ) family unit remained-it wasn't as if his _real_ family was any better.

It was a rather novel experience for him (almost fairy-tale-like) to have someone that would listen, not out of obligation or because they wanted blackmail, but to help him. First, Harry had been cautious regarding Ron and Hermione (what if, what if they walked out on him? decided he was too much trouble?) not actually learning what trust really meant until Halloween.

Harry thought they might be angels. Hermione sometimes mentioned the different angels, talking about carols and how she'd gone to church with her parents during the holidays; all candles, singing and peace. Ron had gotten that scrunched-wrinkled look his face wore when he was confused about homework or something non-wizard. Which was just about _everything _Harry talked about.

He knew a little bit more about angels than Ron-they were the winged pretty people who sat on top of Christmas trees sometimes and were very special. Hermione had look aghast when he gave this explanation to Ron ("Have you never been to Mass?"she said with such a manic look in her eyes he thought she might drag the two of them across London to experience a _mass _for themselves ) and quickly explained church angels. Harry listened attentively, not wanting to be ignorant any longer than necessary, and because he learned very quickly that having friends meant having to recall seemingly random details.

His favorite were the guardian angels. Harry thought it might be just because he wished he had some rather badly. Later that night, while in his scarily big and warm dorm bed, he had thought and thought about the angels for hours. Doubt initially coursed through him, his excitement rotting and twisting in his stomach until it was unrecoginzable and creeped into his veins flooding his body. Such thoughts seemed to grow more easily at night in the dark.

If they (those winged joyous types)really existed, where had they been when he was little and too scared to sleep, stiff and not daring to breathe, inside his cupboard? When he had to wear those _awful _ratty clothes and everyone turned into a massive laughing, finger-pointing monster? When his parents had gotten themselves killed and forgotten to take him too?

It seemed really hard to believe magical flying people were watching over him when everything in his life was constantly going wrong. The way Hermione had gone on, they were supposed to be _super_-superheroes of some sort. The doubt had continued to riddle him (not that he'd mentioned it to Hermione, afraid of crushing her) until his recent epiphany, right before he went off (unknowingly) to face Voldemort: Ron and Hermione, though he'd known them for less than a year (just months really) were the best friends he had-he could tell them just about anything (except for the few dark rotten things he would admit to no one, not even himself).

Pathetic really, that he could trust them more than the people he'd lived with for years, but it didn't change the fact that those two, imperfections and all, were sent to watch over him by someone looking out for Harry. Maybe Dumbledore. Twinkling eyes, starry robes...he snorted at the ridiculous image, dismissing the notion. Harry didn't want _adult _friends.

Of course, now he had one less thing on his want-list assigned to him at birth: friends. He smiled. This summer might not be so rotten after all, he had something to look forward to, and Ron and Hermione could fan the flames of his lost, sputtering hope.

Maybe it wouldn't die this summer.

)))))))))))))))))))

Words: 885

Dun dun dun. Apparently everyone that I asked was too busy to beta this (not to sound annoyed), but I'm not the most patient person either. I want to know how I handled Harry's characterization mainly, but other critiques are welcome.

12/10/10


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